


when you tear it all apart (it's just DNA)

by bilexualclarke (ohalaskayoung)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy is a TA who wears glasses and Clarke digs it, F/M, Mentions of miscarriage, a bit of smut at the end, angsty af but also some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohalaskayoung/pseuds/bilexualclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s one thing to have a crush on your best friend’s hot older brother. It’s another thing to have a crush on your best friend’s brother who is also your TA and your tutor. For lack of a better description, Clarke Griffin is royally screwed.</p><p>(Written for Bellarke Secret Valentines 2016)</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you tear it all apart (it's just DNA)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_emm_gee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/gifts).



Clarke doesn’t leave her room the day final grades are announced. She makes some lame excuse to Octavia and Raven to get out of breakfast at Rosie’s and plunks herself on the couch, her laptop in front of her and a plate piled high with toaster waffles on her lap. The grades are supposed to be up by 11 am, and by 10:30 her stomach is in knots so tight she’s scared the waffles are going to make another appearance.

 

She tries watching old _Saturday Night Live_ sketches to distract herself, but they are no use. The only thing she can think about are her grades- more specifically, that _one_ grade. The one that determines if she is able to maintain her 4.0 GPA. The one that will prove to her mom that she _is_ serious about art. The one that will ensure she passes the class and is no longer a student of-

 

Her frantic thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock on the door.

 

“Clarke?”

 

**Five Months Earlier**

 

_If your professor dies in the middle of the semester, do you get an A?_

 

Clarke chuckles to herself as she sends the text to the group chat she shares with Octavia and Raven. It takes about two seconds to get a reply from the latter.

 

_If your lab partner is an obnoxious ass who thinks he invented thermodynamics, does it still count as murder?_

 

“Excuse me, young lady, would you mind telling me your name?”

 

Clarke looks up to find her professor looming over her desk.

 

“Clarke Griffin, sir.”

 

Professor Wallace grins, placing a shaking, withered hand over the textbook on her desk. “Miss Griffin. Cell phone use is prohibited in this class,” he wheezes. “Texting or Facebook-ing whomever is your boyfriend this week can wait.”

 

“I apologize, Professor.” Clarke quickly pockets her phone and flashes him a smile. “And I’m sure my _girlfriend_ can wait.” Wallace _harrumphs_ and shuffles back to the front of the classroom, where he continues reading off _every single thing_ from their six-page long syllabus.

 

She stews in her seat for the next ten minutes, fantasizing about stretching her legs out just a bit to trip Professor Wallace as he paces in front of her desk for the umpteenth time.

 

 _Stupid heteronormative asshole_.

 

“Oh, hello Mister Blake!” Wallace interrupts his droning as the door opens and a familiar face steps inside. “Class, this is Bellamy Blake. He is a graduate student here and will be my TA for the semester. You will be referring to him for most questions you’ll have throughout the course given that I am the newly elected department chair and am far too busy.”

 

Clarke gapes as Bellamy sets his stack of papers down on Wallace’s desk and comes to stand beside him. He’s wearing his thick black-rimmed glasses, which absolutely _does not_ make Clarke’s mouth go dry, just like his crisp white button down doesn’t make him look absolutely delicious with the way it stretches across his muscled chest. He has the sleeves rolled up so that his thick forearms are exposed, and the muscles ripple when he runs a hand through his thick, curly locks. He meets her gaze and his lips turn up into a smirk. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, which tells her that he _knew_ she was going to be in the class and he didn’t say anything.

 

She narrows her eyes as Wallace continues his lecture. Bellamy just winks in response.

 

When class is over, Clarke sneaks out the door and whips her phone out of her pocket.

_Your brother is an asshole_ , she texts.

 

Octavia responds a few minutes later. _Tell me something I don’t know._

 

* * *

 

Two weeks into the semester and Clarke has done poorly on every assignment in Professor Wallace’s class. Yes, _A Study of Greco-Roman Society_ is an elective course, but it is required for her Art History minor, and if she doesn’t do well in the class then her mother will think she isn’t serious about “this whole art thing”. Which is how she finds herself knocking on the office door and swallowing her pride when she hears him grunt, “Come in.”

 

“Hey,” she says lamely, strolling inside.

 

Bellamy looks up in surprise and then smirks. “Hello, Miss Griffin.”

 

When Clarke had found out that her best friend’s older brother, both of whom she had known for almost four years now, was her TA, at first she was livid he didn’t tell her.

 

Her and Octavia had met when they were both sophomores in high school. The varsity basketball team at Clarke’s school had been playing Octavia’s and the latter was a cheerleader. The game was at Clarke’s high school, and although she didn’t attend because she helped out with an afterschool tutoring program, she vaguely remembers it ending in a tie. She met Octavia afterwards, when she found the girl standing outside the gym with only her pom-poms to keep her warm.

 

“I was in the bathroom and the bus left without me,” she mumbled, seeming to shrink into herself as the cool January air whipped around them. “I called my brother, but he’s at work until 6 and it’s an hour’s drive from here to his job. Plus, the door locked behind me so I can’t get back inside.”

 

Clarke’s heart was about to break for this girl, until she looked Clarke dead in the eye, her chin held high, and said, “Your school fucking sucks.”

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. In the end, Clarke asked her father to drive Octavia home, and the three of them waited together until Octavia’s brother got home from work. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but Bellamy Blake was not it.

 

He looked like Octavia in all the obvious ways: the same dark hair, the hard, defined jawline, the way they both stood a little on edge, as if they could never really trust you. But what Clarke immediately noticed was his tan skin, littered with freckles. His dimpled chin. The small scar above his lip. Her fingers twitched as she studied him, aching for a pencil so she could sketch the lines of his face.

 

“Bell! This is Clarke Griffin and her dad, Jake.” Octavia jumps up from where her and Clarke were watching _Parks and Recreation_ on the couch. “They drove me home from the game. She goes to Ark High.”

 

His jaw tightens at her name, and Clarke frowns. But her father crosses the room and extends his hand, a smile on his face.

 

“Jake Griffin. Nice to meet you, son.”

 

“Bellamy Blake.” He glances at his sister. “Thank you for looking out for O. I really appreciate it.”

 

“Not at a problem at all, Bellamy. Your sister is a lovely girl,” Jake says warmly. Bellamy at least cracks a smile at that.

 

“Will you guys stay for dinner? Please?” Octavia begs. Clarke opens her mouth to say yes, but she catches sight of Bellamy’s pained expression and stops. Her father must notice it too, because he tells Octavia that his wife already made dinner plans for them, and perhaps her and Clarke could get together another time. This placates Octavia, who excitedly exchanges phone numbers with Clarke and makes her promise that they’ll hang out next weekend.

 

“I promise,” Clarke had said with a laugh. And they did hang out that weekend. And the weekend after that, and the one after that. Soon enough they were best friends. One could always be found at the other’s house, either painting their nails on Octavia’s couch or lounging by Clarke’s pool in the summertime.

 

Clarke is there when Octavia’s mom doesn’t come home one night at the end of sophomore year. She’s there when she continues to not come home every night for a week. They make microwavable s’mores in the kitchen while Bellamy talks on the phone to a lawyer in the living room.

 

Octavia is there when Jake Griffin has a heart attack on Christmas Eve the following year. Her and Bellamy sit with Clarke in the waiting room of the hospital for eight hours until her mom comes out, gray faced and holding back tears, and tells them that Jake didn’t make it. It’s Octavia’s arms that catch her when she falls to the ground, screaming and crying and yelling at her mother that she didn’t try hard enough to save him.  

 

Clarke is there during Homecoming senior year, when Octavia and her boyfriend Atom are hit by a drunk driver on their way home from the dance. Atom is killed instantly, and Octavia is lucky enough to have only broken her left leg. She is the one who carries Octavia’s books to every class while she’s on crutches, and the one who draws intricate designs on her cast while they watch TV.

 

Octavia is there when Clarke’s boyfriend Finn is surprised by his _other girlfriend_ Raven at graduation. Both girls break it off with him immediately, and Raven finds herself with two new best friends. All three of them enroll in Mount Weather University in the fall. They get a triple room, and Octavia and Clarke take the bunk bed while Raven gets the single. Bellamy reveals that he has been taking night classes at the local community college and that he will be transferring there with them as a junior. Octavia only pretends to be mad for two weeks.

 

Clarke is the one who calms down the raging storm that is Bellamy when he finds out that Octavia is dating a _senior_ , and Octavia is the one whose shoulder Clarke cries on when she ends things with Lexa before Christmas break.

 

Throughout all the ups and downs of their lives, Clarke and Octavia have been together, and that means she gets Bellamy as an extension. Her relationship with him had been rocky at first, consisting of snippy comments and arguments over things that they were actually on the same side as. Over the years, their relationship has matured, and Clarke can say that she genuinely considers Bellamy one of her best friends.

 

That doesn’t mean he still isn’t a smug asshole who annoys the hell out of her half the time. A seriously hot smug asshole, but a smug asshole all the same.

 

“You know, in all the time I spent talking about my schedule before the semester started, you would have though that you’d have maybe mentioned that you would be TA-ing one of my classes,” Clarke says drily, taking a seat in front of Bellamy’s desk.

 

“And miss seeing that look of shock and horror in your face? Absolutely not,” Bellamy scoffs.

 

Clarke rolls her eyes.

 

Bellamy clears his throat. “Alright, Clarke, be straight with me-”

 

“Not possible,” she mutters, and Bellamy snorts.

 

“Good point. But seriously, Clarke, I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve seen your grades, and I know how important this class is to you. I’m assuming you’re here to ask for some kind of extra help, right? Tutoring?”

 

She nods, looking down at the chipped purple polish on her nails. “Only if it’s you, though.”

 

Bellamy’s smirk widens. “Does someone have a crush on their TA? Are you willing to do _anything_ to pass the class?”

 

“Shut up, asshole.” Clarke rolls here eyes and flicks his hand. “It’s either going to be Wallace, some random kid, or you. Wallace is a senile asshole, half the kids in this class are obnoxious morons, and you… Well, the devil you know, right?”

 

Bellamy steeples his hands in front of his mouth and studies her for a moment.

 

“You know you could have just texted me, right?”

 

 

* * *

 

They meet in the library from one to three on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Despite their usual banter, Bellamy is actually a really good teacher. After three weeks of sessions, Clarke wouldn’t say that she has mastered the material, but she definitely has a better handle on it. She got a C+ on the last quiz they took, and although it’s not the grades she needs in order to maintain a 4.0, she’s getting there.

 

“You’re coming out with us tonight,” Clarke says on their fifth Friday session, slamming her textbook closed at 2:58.

 

“Midterms are in a week, Clarke,” Bellamy responds. It’s his ninth excuse of the semester, and Clarke won’t take no for an answer anymore.

 

“So I’ll spend all next week running myself ragged. Tonight, though? Monty and Jasper are throwing a party at their house. I’m going and you are, too.”

 

Monty and Jasper joined a fraternity last semester with some of their chemistry buddies. Kappa Sigma Delta is by far the least obnoxious group on campus, and they still manage to throw pretty awesome parties.

 

“That’s really not a good idea, Clarke.” Bellamy taps his pile of papers with his pen. “You’re obviously free to go if you want, but it probably wouldn’t look too good to my advisor if I went to a party with my students.”

 

It’s a bullshit excuse, given that he’s gone with them to parties before and there have bound to been other students of his there and- _Oh_.

 

He’s talking about her.

 

“I’m not just your student, Bellamy,” she says lowly. “I was your friend first.”

 

Bellamy’s face softens. “Of course you were, Clarke.”

 

“Then why don’t we hang out anymore? I’m not just talking about you and me, you’ve barely seen Octavia at all lately and Raven won’t admit it but she misses you, too.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I do miss hanging out with all of you, and I don’t mean to make you all feel like you’re second to my work because you’re not.” He runs a hand through his hair and closes the textbook. “What time is the party?”

 

“Ten,” Clarke says, biting back a grin.

 

_“At night?”_

 

* * *

 

They arrive at the KSD frat house at 10:07, and it already looks like the party has been well underway for hours.

 

“We could’ve showed up earlier,” Bellamy grumps as the march up the front steps.

 

Clarke jams an elbow into his ribs. “Shut up, old man.”

 

They shed their coats as soon as the walk through the front door, because even though outside is uncharacteristically cool for March in Virginia, inside the house feels like a sauna. Octavia is wearing all black, as per usual, with high-waisted leather pants and a lace bandeau. Raven is in bright red cropped tank and a flowing white skirt. Clarke is wearing simple black jeans and a blue ballerina top that makes her breasts look _fantastic_ , and she is proud to admit that they posed for a pretty sick _Charlie’s Angels_ photo that she’ll be putting on Instagram once they get back home.

 

Octavia runs off with Jasper, yelling over her shoulder to tell Lincoln when he arrives that she’ll be in the basement. Raven convinces Monty to do shots, and Clarke and Bellamy find themselves sequestered in the kitchen, each nursing a beer and tossing around bizarre commentary about the rest of the partygoers.

 

“He’s a furry.”

 

Clarke chokes on her beer, slapping Bellamy’s arm as she coughs. “You’re fucking disgusting,” she sputters.

 

He smirks as he takes a sip. “I can see it in his eyes.”

 

“Takes one to know one,” she counters.

 

Bellamy gasps in fake horror. “How dare you! Take that back, Griffin.”

 

She winks and swings her body upward to sit on the counter. “I have a sense for these things.”

 

“I thought you had a sense for finding fellow girls who love girls,” he says.

 

Clarke smirks and swings her legs back and forth. “I have a lot of senses. That one is my favorite, though.”

 

“I like that one, too,” he chuckles. A girl wearing a neon yellow spandex bodysuit sprints into the kitchen, grabs an entire bottle of vodka, and then runs away. Bellamy turns to Clarke immediately, giving her a warning look.

 

“No kinkshaming.”

 

Clarke gapes. “Me? Never!”

 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

 

“I love all kinks!”

 

“You were literally just making fun of furries like two seconds ago.”

 

“Being a furry isn’t a kink it’s a sickness.”

 

Bellamy snorts. “I’ll give you that.” He drains the rest of his beer and grabs two more from the fridge. He hands one to her as he asks, “So, what about you, Griffin? Any kinks?”

 

“Glasses,” she blurts out immediately. Bellamy’s eyebrows shoot up, and she feels herself flush. He had, of course, picked tonight of all nights to leave his contacts at home and instead don his thick black frames. “I mean, um, I think that glasses are, uh…”

 

His voice drops as he leans towards her and whispers huskily, “The glasses doing it for you?”

 

“Yes,” she breathes, and his eyes drop down to her lips for a moment before meeting hers again.

 

Bellamy turns to face her directly, sliding between her legs and bracing on arm on either side of her. The position is so natural she has to fight the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. But he moves closer on his own, and she arches up until their lips are just barely touching and her heart is beating so loudly she can barely hear herself think and-

 

“Hey, is there any ’shine left?” Jasper slurs as he stumbles into the kitchen. Bellamy pulls back abruptly as Clarke jumps off the counter.

 

“There’s some over there.” Bellamy gestures lamely to the cooler on the counter by the fridge.

 

Jasper gives him an exaggerated thumbs up. “Thanks, Boss.”

 

Clarke’s mouth is dry as she looks back to Bellamy, who is avoiding her gaze.

 

_You idiot. He’s your TA. He’s your tutor._

_…He’s also your best friend’s hot older brother._

_Fuck. This has to stop. It’s just a dumb crush._

 

“I’m going to go find Raven,” Clarke says, trying to ease the tension. “She better not be doing body shots without me.”

 

She could have sworn she saw Bellamy’s eyes darken, but he blinks and smiles innocently.

 

“Go have some fun, Clarke.”

 

She gives him a halfhearted wave as she leaves the kitchen. As she walks away, she mumbles to herself, “I thought I already was.”

 

* * *

 

Everyone is too hungover to do much of anything on Saturday, but on Sunday they do trek out for brunch at Rosie’s, a diner off campus with the best waffles Clarke has ever tasted. She slides into a booth next to Raven, and Octavia and Bellamy sit across from them.

 

Things between her and Bellamy aren’t weird. They’re not. Sure, they almost kissed about 36 hours ago, but they were both buzzed and it doesn’t mean anything.

 

Except it does to Clarke.

 

She would be an idiot to deny her feelings any longer. She has a huge crush on Bellamy Blake. Probably more than a huge crush, if she was to be honest with herself, but she isn’t quite ready for that. But now, watching him devour his French toast like it’s his last meal, a bit of powdered sugar making itself at home on his chin, she’s never been more sure.

 

“Look who’s here,” Raven mutters slyly, nodding towards the door. A pretty girl with light brown curls that bounce as she moves glides inside the diner. “Bellamy’s girlfriend.”

 

Clarke’s stomach sinks, and she looks to Bellamy. He glares at Raven.

 

“She’s not my girlfriend, Raven.” The girl grabs an apron off the hook on the wall and slips behind the counter as she ties it around her neck.

 

“What’s her name?” Clarke forces herself to ask. Bellamy looks up at her in surprise.

 

“Uh, Gina,” he says, clearing his throat. “We’re in the same grad program.”

 

“And she works here?” Octavia asks, eying Gina as she pours coffee for a man at the counter with a smile. “Bell, we’ve been coming here for two years now and we’ve never seen her or ever heard you mention her.”

 

“She just transferred here this semester. She mentioned that she was trying to find work and I told her Rosie’s was hiring.” Bellamy glances up at Clarke again and then looks back to his sister. “Do you want to know her social security number, too?”

 

“Shut up, I was just curious,” Octavia snaps. “Why does Raven think she’s your girlfriend?”

 

“I saw them in the library last week,” Raven says with a smirk. “It must have been right before your tutoring sesh, Clarke. They were talking at one of the tables and let me tell you, that girl is _into him_.”

 

Gina finally notices them, and she approaches their table with a bright smile. “Hi, Bellamy! Hello, everyone, I’m Gina.”

 

“Hey, Gina, how are you?” Bellamy asks, smiling politely. Clarke can’t help but notice the way the girl stands straighter under his attention.

 

“I’m great! Thank you for recommending this place, Bellamy. Seriously, it’s a great job. I really like it. The people here are so nice!”

 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Bellamy waves his hand around the table. “This is my sister, Octavia, the weird one who ordered two different plates of eggs is Raven, and this is, uh, this is Clarke.”

 

Gina beams at each one of them before turning back to Bellamy.

 

“Well, I should get back to work, but I’ll catch you in class tomorrow. You can tell me more about your theories on Alexander the Great.”

 

“Alright,” Bellamy chuckles. “Good seeing you, Gina.”

 

Raven continues to tease him mercilessly throughout breakfast. Clarke picks at her waffles until Octavia changes the subject to something about Lincoln. The knots in her stomach don’t untangle themselves.

 

Later, as they’re walking back to their dorms, Clarke lags behind Raven and Octavia to walk next to Bellamy.

 

“You should go for it,” she finds herself saying when they reach her building.

 

_It’s just a stupid crush on your best friend’s brother. You need to let it go._

 

Bellamy’s brow furrows in confusion. “Go for what?”

 

“You should ask out Gina,” Clarke tells him, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. “She’s cute, she seems really nice. You should give it a shot.”

 

Bellamy stares at her long and hard for a moment and she wills her face not to flush. “I’ll think about it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Next Friday, Gina is waiting for him when they finish their study session, and she greets him with a kiss. Clarke goes to a party by herself the following night, meets a junior named Niylah, and she invites her back to her dorm. Niylah’s roommate is conveniently out of town for the weekend, and she and Clarke fuck well into the night. Clarke sneaks out before Niylah wakes up the next morning, her limbs sore and feeling sated. It was just what she wanted, but as she walks back to her dorm, she thinks that it might not be what she needed.

 

Things are fine between Bellamy and Clarke for the next few weeks. She doesn’t see him much outside of class and their study sessions. He’s either too busy grading Wallace’s ever-growing pile of assignments or he’s with Gina- who, Clarke is big enough to admit, is an absolute delight.

 

But then it’s a Tuesday night, and Raven is staying late in the engineering lab and Clarke is by herself in their dorm when she gets a frantic call from Octavia.

 

“ _Clarke?_ ”

 

Her pained voice immediately sets Clarke on edge.

 

“Octavia, what is it? Are you alright?”

 

“I-I’m in the bathrooms by the cafeteria. My stomach is cramping and I-I’m bleeding and I think I k-know what it is but I’m so scared, Clarke, I-”

 

“I’m on my way,” Clarke says, already on her feet and grabbing her bag. “I’ll call Bellamy and-”

 

“No! Don’t tell Bellamy,” Octavia wheezes. “Please, Clarke, don’t tell him yet. Just help me.”

 

Two hours later, Clarke is pacing outside of Octavia’s hospital room, trying to will Raven to answer her phone, when Bellamy comes storming down the hall.

 

“ _What the fuck, Clarke_?” He yells. “My sister is in the fucking hospital and you didn’t think to tell me immediately?”

 

She glares at him, putting a finger to her lips and nodding towards Octavia’s room, where she is finally asleep.

 

His jaw twitches, but he does lower his voice. “Clarke, explain to me what is happening _right fucking now_.”

 

“Octavia had a miscarriage,” she deadpans. Bellamy face loses all color. “She’s fine now, though. Just resting. I promise.”

 

He scrubs a hand over his face, slumping against the wall. “She was pregnant?”

 

Clarke bites her lip. “From what she told me, she didn’t even know. Her periods have always been irregular and they were being extra careful. The doctor said she was about six weeks along.”

 

Bellamy slides down the wall and rests his elbows against his knees, his hands folded into fists over his mouth. “Does Lincoln know?”

 

Lincoln is in Phoenix visiting his mother for her birthday. Octavia had wanted to go with him but had too much going on between her classes and had ultimately decided to stay behind.

 

“I called him just before you got here. He’s getting a flight home tonight.”

 

Clarke hesitates for a moment before crossing the hall and sitting down next to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. Octavia asked me not to.”

 

His jaw clicks. “Why the fuck would she do that?”

 

“She didn’t want to freak you out-”

 

“That’s bullshit. I should have been there with her and you know it.”

 

Clarke bites her lip. “It’s alright, Bellamy, she wasn’t alone. I was with her the whole time.”

 

“She’s _my responsibility_ , not yours,” Bellamy spits. “She’s _my_ family.”

 

_Not yours._

 

Though he doesn’t speak the words, she hears them loud and clear.

 

“Well,” Clarke rasps, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Sorry for overstepping my boundaries, then. Tell Octavia I’ll be back to see her in the morning, if her _family_ allows it.”

 

She stands up and starts down the hall. She hears Bellamy sigh and call after her, but she doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke doesn’t show up for three of their sessions before he confronts her after class. She’s walking briskly out of the room, avoiding his gaze, when the boy in front of her drops his books and blocks her way.

 

“Clarke.” Bellamy places a hand on her elbow. “Can we talk for a moment?”

 

She sighs, watching as the rest of the students file out of the room before she nods. He leads her into the office and closes the door behind them.

 

“About the other night,” Bellamy starts, “I was out of line, and I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you being there for Octavia, and it was wrong of me to take out my frustrations on you.”

 

“It’s alright.” Clarke scratches at her arm awkwardly. “You were worried about her. I understand.”

 

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he says, leaning against Wallace’s desk. “I just feel really awful about everything I said and I want you to know that I didn’t mean it. You _are_ family, Clarke. Octavia thinks of you as a sister and I…”

 

His words make her heart jump to her throat. “And you what?” she presses.

 

Bellamy sighs. “You know what, Clarke.”

 

“No, I don’t, actually.” She stands up a bit straighter and takes a purposeful step forward. “Look, I’m going to be honest here. I know you’re with Gina, and she’s really great, and I’m not trying to get in the middle of that. But I do have feelings for you.”

 

He doesn’t say anything, so she plows on.

 

“I know that I’m your little sister’s best friend but I don’t think that’s how you think of me anymore. Something happened between us at that party, and I need to know if you feel something too or if I’m just imagining things.”

 

He is silent, excruciatingly silent, for what feels like the longest time.

 

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” Bellamy finally says, his voice pained. Her heart sinks, and the hot sting of rejection rips through her. “You’re technically my student, Clarke.”

 

It’s true. She knows it’s true. To pursue a relationship would be unethical and wrong. But his refutation still stings.

 

“Right. Well, it’s just a silly crush anyway. I’ll get over it.” she says flippantly. His face falls, and he takes a step towards her, but she takes a step back. “I was thinking that we didn’t really need those study sessions anymore, anyway. What more can I learn in a week, you know?”

 

She wants to disagree, to fight for her in even the smallest of ways. But he just gives her a curt nod and locks his jaw. “If that’s what you want, Clarke.”

 

_It’s not._

 

“It is.” She starts walking backwards toward the door. “I really do appreciate all your help, though. You’re a good friend.”

 

He grunts, running a hand through his hair. “Gina and I broke up, you know,” he says suddenly, looking up at her with an unreadable expression.

 

“That’s a shame,” Clarke says, and she genuinely means it. Gina is an absolute angel.

 

“Yeah,” Bellamy says lamely. “I, uh, I just thought you should know.”

 

“It doesn’t really change anything, though, does it?” Clarke smiles sadly at his silence. “Right. Well, I should go.”

 

“Clarke, wait.”

 

She freezes with her hand on the door handle, trying and failing not to get her hopes up.

 

“I don’t want things to be weird between us. You’re not just Octavia’s friend, you’re my friend, too.”

 

She laughs mirthlessly. “Don’t worry, Bellamy. As soon as this is all over, everything will go back to the way it was.”

 

* * *

 

Wallace rasps out a good luck as he passes out their final exam. Clarke’s stomach is in knots as she glances over the first few pages. Her sessions with Bellamy have boosted her grade considerably, but not enough to give her an A. In order to do that, she needs to get at least a C+ on the final.

 

Bellamy gives her a small smile from the front of the room.

 

 _I’m over him. I’m over him. I’m over him_ , she chants in her head.

 

 _You’ve got this_ , he mouths to her.

 

_Fuck, I’m not over him._

 

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she nods in acknowledgment and begins her exam.

 

It’s another hour and half before she finishes. Wallace has long retired to his office, instructing Bellamy to stay behind until everyone has finished their exam. Clarke’s hand aches when he puts down her pencil and slumps back in her seat. She’s surprised by the amount of material she actually _knows_ , but she still isn’t sure if it will be enough to pass.

 

“You have one hour left to complete the exam,” Bellamy announces, his deep voice piercing the silence and making her jump.

 

“Well, this is as good as it’s going to get,” Clarke mutters to herself, sliding out of her seat and grabbing her test. She walks to the front of the room and places it face down on the desk, meeting Bellamy’s eyes.

 

“Well?” he asks, putting down the ancient copy of _The Iliad_ in his hand.

 

Clarke’s heart flutters when his hand brushes over hers and she slides the paper towards him. 

 

“I’m not sure,” she whispers back, careful not to disturb the other students. “I guess you’ll know before me, huh?”

 

Another student comes up to hand in their exam, and Clarke adjusts the strap of her bag and moves out of the way.

 

“I’ll see you later, Bellamy,” she says softly, giving his hand a small before heading out the door.

 

**Present**

 

The knocks come again.

 

“Clarke, are you here?”

 

She groans, rolling off the couch and padding over to the door. She takes a deep breath before she swings it open, and is almost trampled when Bellamy barges inside. He’s gripping a piece of paper tightly in his hand, and shoves it at her wordlessly. The top is wrinkled beyond repair from his grip, and she is confused for a moment until her eyes focus on the words.

 

_Professor Wallace_

_History 314_

_A Study of Greco-Roman Society_

_Final Exam Grades_

 

“Take a look,” Bellamy says lowly. His finger trails down the page and taps next to her name.

 

_Clarke Griffin_

_A-_

 

“Oh my God,” she whispers, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I did it.”

 

He grins, and this one has to be her favorite, because the way it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle makes her heart skip a beat.

 

“You did it,” he says, his voice heavy with pride.

 

“Thanks to you,” Clarke says, handing the paper back with shaking hands. The air is thick between them, and when their fingers brush he drops the paper and takes her hands in his.

 

“I didn’t take this test, Clarke. You did.” He gives her hands a squeeze and steps closer. “And now you’re all done.”

 

“Yup,” Clarke breathes, her heart pounding. “Done with that class forever.”

 

“How does it feel?” Bellamy takes another step closer. She can feel his warm breath on her face when he exhales.

 

“Feels good.”

 

“Yeah?” His hands leave hers and move up to cup her face, gently tucking her hair behind her ears. His nose brushes over hers. “Are you happy?”

 

Before she can answer, he pulls back and looks at her, his beautiful brown eyes searching hers.

 

“I was an idiot before. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t have feelings for you, but I was so goddamn wrong. I want this. I want you. I want to make you happy, Clarke, if you’ll have me.”

 

Clarke chokes out a laugh and steps forward, crashing their lips together. Her hands wind into his hair and he moans into her mouth, pulling her impossibly closer. It’s everything she imagined kissing him would be; hard and demanding, but also tender and sweet. He nips at her lower lip, making her gasp, and in one fluid motion he picks her up and presses her against the wall. Her legs wind around his waist and she pulls back to gasp for air.

 

“You make me so happy, Bellamy Blake,” she pants, running her hand through his curls.

 

“Are we doing this?” He punctuates the end of the sentence by pecking her lips.

 

Clarke bites her lip as she grins. “Yeah,” she nods slowly. “Yeah, we are definitely doing this.”

 

**Three Years Later**

 

The velvet box sits in the back left corner of Bellamy’s third desk drawer, hidden behind old lesson plans, where it has remained since its purchase almost six months ago. It rattles slightly as the desk shakes, but it is drowned out by the low moans filling the room.

 

“ _Yes_ , Bellamy,” Clarke groans, looking back at him over her shoulder. She gives him a teasing smile before a particularly well-aimed thrust makes her eyes roll back in her head. “ _Fuck_ , that feels so good.”

 

“Come here,” he grunts, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her up so that her back is flush against his chest as he pounds into her. The action doesn’t hurt- he has perfected the art of gentle roughness- but instead sends a jolt of pleasure straight through her.

 

“I’m so close,” she pants as he presses hot, wet, kisses down the side of her neck, stopping to suck on her pulse point. Her legs spread wider on their own accord, her knees digging into the surface of his desk as he fits his hands between them. His dexterous fingers circle her clit as he fucks her harder.

 

“I know you are, I can feel it,” Bellamy growls. His free hand leaves her hair and moves farther south to tease her sensitive nipples. “Come for me, Clarke. You’re so fucking perfect, let me feel you come all over my cock- Yes, _good girl_. You’re such a good girl for me, Clarke, _fuck_.”

 

He holds her as she trembles around him, her orgasm triggering his own. When it’s over, he collapses into his desk chair, pulling her on top of him. She curls up in his lap and brushes his sweaty curls away from his forehead.

 

“How was your day, Professor Blake?” Clarke asks, kissing him lightly. She had surprised him in his office after his last class of the day, showing up in a long black trench coat with nothing but a lacey blue thong underneath.

 

His fingers trace patterns on her spine. “Certainly one for the books after this surprise. What brought that on?”

 

Clarke shrugs, snuggling into his bare chest. They should probably get dressed soon, because even though he has no more classes for the rest of the day, they _are_ still on campus and there is a very strong possibility that anyone could find them.

 

“I wanted to do something for you.”

 

Bellamy thinks about the little velvet box, sitting snug inside his desk, just inches away from her.

 

_Soon._

 

“I love you,” he says simply.

 

Clarke smiles, kissing him gently. The kiss is languid and slow, familiar and full of love.

 

“I know.”


End file.
